A Reflection, In Pieces
by RainingYellowRoses
Summary: Kenny reflects on his life as it is, as it could be, and as it was. The thoughts of a survivor who was born on the wrong side of the tracks but tries to accept life anyway.


Title: A Reflection, In Pieces

Rating: PG-13-ish for angst and some dark thoughts

Pairings: None

Warnings: contemplation of suicide in the past

Summary: Kenny reflects on his life as it is, as it could be, and as it was. The thoughts of a survivor who was born on the wrong side of the tracks but tries to accept life anyway.

Warmth

Kenny likes to pretend he's somewhere warm—maybe Mexico. That way the cold seeping into his cracked window doesn't bite quite as much as it licks along his exposed flesh, leaving goose bumps and shivers, sharp like knives, in its wake. Late at night when he finally slips under the covers, convinced the danger of his alcoholic father and crack addict mother has eventually passed, he likes to pretend that as he puts his head down it lands on a pillow made of duck feathers instead of the crushed foam of reality. He likes to imagine that he has a heated blanket and that even though it's blazing hot—cause he lives in Mexico, remember?—he still turns the device up on high. Because it's better to die of heat stroke than to have his limbs freeze up one by one, slowly becoming frostbit before breaking off unnoticed as he trembles under the thin moth-eaten sheets. The exhausted blonde wiggles the big toe on his right foot, just to make sure it's still there.

Freedom

There are train tracks next to his house, but he never hears the sound of wheels rushing frantically over metal or the shrill yet hollow shriek of a horn. The tracks are walking distance from his house, in fact he could see part of them across the expanse of snow covered parking lot separating his house from their alluring freedom, but it takes him hours to reach them on his malnourished legs. Though they could never lead him anywhere, let alone house a train, he likes to wander out there from time to time to sit on them. He runs his hands along the frozen steel until he reaches the unfinished end of their forgotten glory. Sometimes Kenny sits there for hours and tries to imagine why they stopped building the rails before they reached anywhere. Perhaps a mudslide caused the steep slope at the edge where they end abruptly and unable to fix the damaged ground the workers simply abandoned their endeavor and went home. As the years passed they became forgotten by the world around them. But Kenny remembers; he knows they're there. He sleeps on them sometimes in the warmer months hoping they'll feel at peace knowing at least one soul still sees them; at least one soul still cares.

Breathing

The sun smoothes the blackened sky with light pastels in the early morning. Kenny sees the muted colors and breathes. Breathing is something his been working on lately. Deep breath in, count to six, exhale, repeat. He'll sit and watch the sky at five in the morning and practice remembering what it's like to be alive, what it means to wake up at dawn and still be in the same spot where he fell into a tortured sleep the night before. By the time he leaves his room the blonde feels a little less like chugging a container of bleach. The breathing eases his despair—his anger, the same anger that prefers to sneak up on him in his sleep and claw holes in his brain. When his eyes slowly slip open as the pale yellow light sweeps through his window he always has a headache, and his eyeballs always burn like someone has poured sulfur into them as he slept. Breathing helps him not want to punch a hole through his wall—it wouldn't be hard with how they're already crumbling. Breathing helps him not hold a gun to his head and pull the trigger. Breathing helps him stamp down the scream bubbling up inside him that used to be too hard to tie down but now is forced to hold in. He must because his little sister has a hard enough life as it is, she doesn't need to be woken up at the crack of dawn by her older brother having an emotional break. So he breathes. Kenny's been working on inhaling peace and exhaling pain. Deep breath in, count to six, exhale, repeat.


End file.
